Big Headed and Bitchy
by Funnybottoms
Summary: Sinéad is a hot-headed girl who spends her life laughing at the "Rich Kids" who think Daddy's credit card makes them better than everyone else. But she may be about to discover something she never could have imagined Its better than the summary I promise
1. Chapter 1

**Hey :) Okay so this is my first Fanfiction...well it's actually the first bit of writing that I've ever let anyone see. So please be generous with the replies. Good and bad are welcome. I really just want to improve my writing. So this is just a story that I've been thinking up for a while, it's based _loosely_ on Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen, which happens to be my favourite book. I have a few more chapters ready to go, so I'll upload them soon, and I'm always writing more so I'll try my best to update quickly(I anyone bothers to read this that is) I also just want to say that I'm from Ireland and sometimes we spell words a little differently from Americans (grey/gray, centre/center, realise/realize.) But I'm sure you'll be able to figure it out. Anyway I hope you like it and please give me some feedback :)**

Beep, beep.  
_No.__  
_Beep, beep.  
_Please no.__  
_Beep, beep.  
_Oh no.__  
_Beep, beep.  
"Fine, fine I'm up."  
I hit the 'off' button on my ancient clock radio .It used to be my Dad's. Gran told me how excited he was when he first got for his 13th birthday, way back when, so I couldn't just let him throw it out. Now I wish I had .The excessive beeping noise seemed to bounce off all the walls in my small room and come back to me much louder than it should.  
I let my head fall back onto the pillow. I could hear a plane high in the sky somewhere over-head and my Dad downstairs, whistling as he waited for the kettle to boil .I stared at the ceiling hoping I'd been idiotic enough to set my alarm for the wrong day but I was just fooling myself. I was going to have to get out of bed. I might as well just get it over with.  
I swung the blanket off myself and let the cool air fall over me. When I stepped out of bed, I stretched and grimaced at the sound of my joints popping.  
"That can't be good" I muttered to myself.  
I walked over to the window and pulled back the heavy, purple curtains .I winced as the light flooded my room and hurt my eyes. When my eyes focused, I looked outside in disgust.  
It was sunny .Ridiculously sunny .The grass was green, the sky was blue, the sun was bright and the clouds, there were very few, but, they white as ghosts and fluffy like candy floss. The guy from the house across the street was in his dressing gown, with a big smile plastered on his face, picking up his paper off the front step. There were two middle aged women jogging together on the pavement. As if they needed to, they both had perfect bodies. The milk man was down the street swapping full bottles of milk for empty ones .He was wearing shorts with a matching short sleeve shirt and a baseball hat. Even the birds were playing cheerfully in the sprinklers on our lawn. It was the perfect early autumn morning in suburbia. And it was making me sick! No matter what Dad said I would never get used to this "Happy Family" front, when really, the parents are separated and the kid is on crack. Today was a very "Happy Family" day. Everything outside was perfectly chipper. We were complete opposites. The world outside was elated and joyful .I was...not.  
I walked over to the closet and grabbed the first outfit I could find that would look half-way decent. It was days like this I really missed having a uniform .At least when I had a uniform people couldn't give a label you 0.6 seconds after you walk into a room.  
I turned on my iPod and speakers and put on a song with a fast beat to help me wake up. Once again I decided "Paramore" could do the job.  
After I got dressed and did my hair, I went downstairs to the kitchen. I quickly realised I was the only one that had not been effected by the absurd bliss outside. I could almost feel it seeping under the door and covering everything in "peppiness". I'd only been in the room five seconds and my family were already bugging me.  
"Good morning Sinèad*, did you sleep well?"  
I was used to Emma, my Dad's wife, being bubbly all the time so this didn't bother me.  
"Yeah I slept fine thanks"  
"You want some breakfast?" Emma was already on the way to the fridge.  
"No thanks. I'll just grab a-"  
"Who's the tough guy now?"  
I turned to see my Dad with Tobey, the coolest six year old around, in a headlock.  
"Dad! Let go!" Tobey demanded, his brown eyes intense, as he tried to wriggle out of Dad's arms.  
Tobey was scowling as he always was when he was being beaten. He was a sore loser, but that didn't stop him from challenging Dad every single day.  
Dad let my half brother go and laughed as Tobey gasped for air. _Why is he gasping it's not like Dad is actually hurting him?__  
_When Dad turned back to the table, where his breakfast was waiting, Tobey decided to have another go at him. Tobey was seriously disturbed if he thought a tiny boy could beat an ex-Garda**.  
Nevertheless Tobey still charged. He jumped onto Dads' back and wrapped his tiny arms around Dad's neck. The usual ruckus began, but I was busy eyeing Dads toast which had been left untouched and unprotected.  
I turned around to ask Emma to pass it to me but the look on her face made the words get stuck somewhere in my throat. It looked like every feature on her petite face was smiling. Her mouth was stretched into a huge grin over her perfect white teeth. Her big brown eyes were glowing with pride and delight as she watched Dad and her son Tobey. She looked so happy that it made a small smile play around the edges of my mouth. It was really nice seeing her smile like that. It wasn't just her normal smile. This smile came somewhere from deep inside. Looking at her I got the feeling that sometimes people really did get everything they want out of life. _Not too often I'd imagine._  
I took the already buttered slice of toast off Dads plate, grabbed my bag and walked out the front door as his booming laughter filled every corner of the house.

**Well, that's it. What did you think? Please, please tell me. Next chapter will be up very soon. If I get any reviews, that is. :D**

**P.S Sinéad is pronounced "Shin-aid" It's a pretty common Irish name. And a "Garda" is an Irish policeman.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay so this is chapter two. I hope you like it (if there's anyone actually reading it lol)**

The hot air hit me like a slap in the face when I stepped outside. It took me a minute to get used to the change in temperature of the air that now filled my lungs. It all felt backwards to me; going inside to cool down, stepping out into heat. Fresh air should be cold not humid. The air should be warm and stuffy inside, not outside.  
I looked down at my clothes I wondered was I dressed too heavily. I was wearing black converse, a denim skirt, a grey tank top and a light white jumper. Oh well I wasn't changing now. Not that it really made a difference what I was wearing; I was bound to stand out anyway. Pale ivory skin, dark blue eyes and auburn hair are not really the norm in Chicago.  
I walked over to the pavement, leaned against the mail box, turned on my iPod and waited for Grant to arrive. Sometimes I'd wish everybody was like Grant, but then I'd remember that he wouldn't be as special if that were the case. Grant was one of the coolest people I knew. He was witty and funny, and willing to help me in any way he could.  
Just then I heard the rattle of the old yellow school bus trudging around the corner. I often wondered were school buses painted yellow simply to bring a little cheeriness in student's day-to-day routine. The bus stopped right in front of me. I smiled as the door opened. My day had just brightened a little. The bus driver, Grant, had a devious look on his face. He was up to something. No doubt it would take me hours to figure out what was going on in his head this time. I thought back to the last time he had that brazen smile. I had left one of my essays on the bus without realising it. For weeks as I got off the bus at school he would recite quotes from the essay and leave me wondering did I unconsciously copy it from something I read somewhere.  
"What?" I asked suspiciously  
"Didn't say a word" He replied in his fading southern accent.  
"That's why I'm worried" I informed him as I made my way down the bus.  
I was the first stop so the bus was empty. The floor was sticky, the seats were hard, uncomfortable and smelly, and in general the bus wasn't a nice place to be...for most people anyway. I, however, found the bus being the brighter parts of a school morning. I've had adventures, fallen in love, cried, laughed out loud, and dealt with abuse, pride, murder, terrorism, hilarious situations and the joys of being a teenage lesbian all on this old yellow school bus. The bus was a great place to read. And a lot of reading could be done in the 30 minutes it took to get to school. The bus was my sanctuary. Yes I read at home but on the bus there was no chance of a distraction. Nobody paid much attention to me, a fact for which I was grateful. It's way too early in the morning to have a proper conversation with someone. Although, a few "Oh my God"'s and "No way!"'s, would probably provide most people on the bus with sufficient enthusiasm to continue the conversation solo.  
I sat into the seat and took out a book. It was easy to ignore the other people as they crowded the seats around me.  
When I looked up from the alluring world I was discovering, we were already at school. I put the book in my bag and stood up to get off the bus. When I stepped out of my seat into the aisle, I accidentally knocked into someone. I was about to apologize, but I got shoved out of the way before I got the chance.  
"Move it, loser!"  
_Well that's attractive_, I thought sarcastically. I shouldn't have expected any better from Ian Danes. "Mr Popular" himself didn't really mix with us mere mortals. He's has better things to be doing. Or at least that's everyone seems to think. I've seen him turn down girls because he's "_just too busy"_. And the crazy thing is that they expect that. They are totally understanding; poor Ian, so many responsibilities, so little time to mess with girls hearts.  
As I walked into school, I saw all the usual "cliques" in their usual hang out spots. It was all very "teen movie". It was the sort of thing I thought didn't actually exist before I'd moved here. People were judged, given a not-so-subtle hint as to where they belonged and should they try to leave the group they were forced into, they would find themselves branded the "outcast" and left feeling a little silly for having faith in humanity. Or at least that was the case in my situation.  
I glanced up at the skaters on the steps, the "emo's" under the tree, the "jocks" on the benches checking out the girl who dropped her books and was now bending down in a mini skirt to retrieve them, the "dorks", who were rushing to class just hoping to get through another day unnoticed. It made me angry that I could relate to every group here in some way, but that if I was to talk to them, I would probably be told where to shove it.  
After I had gotten my books, I headed to my first class. I was taking out my books when Suzie, in all her blond glory, fluttered into the room. Apart from myself, it seemed only one person noticed the entrance._ But I'll keep that to myself for now._  
She walked over to my desk and slammed my copy of "Pride and Prejudice" on the table in front of me, her normally sweet blue eyes, flickering with frustration.  
"Hey!" I complained. "Be careful with that!"  
"I know "sentimental value" and I'm sorry, but I'm just so annoyed." She said quietly, so quietly that everyone else would think she was totally relaxed and calm. But she always sounded relaxed and calm, it took a few years for me to be able to spot the subtle differences in her voice when her emotions changed. _But now I'm an expert!_ Going by that I could tell she was only vaguely upset and nothing too major had happened.

As for the "sentimental value" well, my Mam gave with that copy of "Pride and Prejudice" before she died. It had been her favourite book and she promised that one day we would read it together. It didn't really mean much to a six year old, but I always loved reading and was already excited about it. _God I wish we could have read it together._  
"...but you could have given me some warning." Now she was getting angry, though the tone and pitch of her voice barely changed.  
"What kind of warning?"  
"Mr Darcy." she said as though that should explain everything.  
"What about him?"  
"You knew this would happen." She complained softly.  
"Would you stop being so cryptic and just tell me what you're talking about" I was beginning to get frustrated.  
"You knew I would fall in love with Mr Darcy."  
"How could I possibly know that?"  
"Well did you fall in love with him?"  
"Yes, but what's tha-"  
"It's got to do with it 'cause you should have known it would happen to me too"  
"You say that like we're always thinking the same thing."  
I half muttered the last part because I was distracted by the pre-breakup argument that was happening at the other end of the classroom. The girl that was involved suddenly stood up, threw her bottle over water over her now ex-boyfriend and stormed out of the room. It was all very dramatic.  
"It's all very dramatic." Suzie said as though she was reading a quote from a book.  
I looked back to see her watching me.  
"You're not as complicated as you think." She informed me, with a cheeky smile growing on her face.  
"Wow, that's actually pretty freaky."  
"I know you too well." She said matter-of-factually.  
I glanced down at the book Suzie had put on my table. Sensing that I needed a distraction Suzie asked "How come you cancelled our plans last night?"  
"I just wasn't in the mood."  
"So what did you do?" She asked.  
"Just stayed at home, caught up with some e-mails from friends back home."  
"Wait! You ditched me so that you could talk to your friends that live in a different continent, while I was sitting at home, alone and bored?"  
"Ireland isn't a continent."  
"I know that!"  
"You know that now." I mumbled under my breath.  
I looked up from the page I was unknowingly doodling on, to see Beth Thompson strut into the room. The girl looked like an over-done Barbie doll. Why anyone looked up to her I didn't know. She was wearing tight cut off jeans, red stilettos and a low cut, v-neck white vest top. The outfit could look good, if she was going out and didn't have so much makeup on. The girl looked like someone had smeared orange icing on her face. Her long blond hair was screaming for a bit of TLC. For the three years I'd known her, she hadn't gone a month without getting a new batch of platinum blond highlights in her naturally brown hair.  
"Wow, look at the size of that ring!" Suzie exclaimed, loud enough so only I could hear, looking in Beth's direction.  
"It's probably a fake."  
"Since when does Beth ever have anything fake?"  
"Ask her hair, nails and personality"  
"Are you jealous?" Suzie asked with a hint of teasing in her voice.  
"Hah! Do you understand the concept of jealousy?"I fired back  
"Do you understand the concept of denial?" All the seriousness had gone from her expression now.  
"I do thank you very much." I know when I've been beaten.  
"You sure?" The glee of victory was ringing in her voice.  
"Positive" I said, hoping that would be the end of it.  
She gave up and went back to flicking through her iPod. I looked up at the clock. 20 minutes late. It looked like we would have a free lesson. I wondered where Mr. Roberts was, but was quickly distracted when I saw Suzie's admirer was still stealing glances at her every few seconds.  
"He's looking at you again."  
"What?" Suzie asked a little confused as she snapped out of her trance.  
"Chris is looking at you again."  
"No he's not" she laughed it off but, her face was a little stiff.  
"You love proving me wrong."  
"Yeah, so?"

"So why don't you look around and prove me wrong."  
"What? No." She flushed.  
"What difference does it make? If he's not looking at you, he won't see you looking."  
No answer.  
She wasn't getting away with it that easily though.  
"You've noticed it too. You're just being modest." I accused.  
"There's nothing to notice." She said nonchalantly  
"Yeah, sure." I soaked it in sarcasm to be certain I got my point across.  
"What is it with you and sarcasm?"  
"We have a very loving relationship. It's always there when I need it, but it doesn't smother me. We're perfect for each other."  
"Wow! This coming from 'Miss teenage love is stupid'. I'm impressed."  
"Oh this isn't just a fling let me tell you. This relationship has been growing for years." I let the artificial seriousness leave my tone and replaced it with an assertive one before continuing with "And hey! Don't think I didn't notice how you changed the subject."  
"What subject?" Her innocent look was very over done.  
"Chris."

"Oh." _As if she'd forgotten._

"Fine, fine I get it. You don't want to talk about it." I didn't want to really annoy her.  
"Thanks."

"We will talk about it soon though because all his staring is starting to irritate me."

"He's not staring!"

**Review...review...review...just do it...you know you want to. =]**


End file.
